


I See You

by Wargasms



Series: Anything You Ask [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Facial Hair, M/M, R has a moustache, about as mushy as i get, and dialogue exhausts me, enjoy, he will appear, i'm splitting this into 2 chapters cuz, in my MIND, no bahorel at this time, there's at least this much if not more left on paper and, these assholes have a lot to say apparently, whelp now it's all there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargasms/pseuds/Wargasms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the MakingHugoSpin LJ Comm's Les Mis Kink Meme<br/>Prompt: ( http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/11823.html?thread=4660527#t4660527 )<br/>Modern AU where R grows a moustache for the lol<br/>http://24.media.tumblr.com/c46072796e9642011c658696669119dd/tumblr_mjuqgfQmus1rtsml4o1_500.jpg<br/>(and E finds facial hair hot)</p><p>This is 'How They Hooked Up' in the modern!au I seem to be creating out of prompts. Notes at end have more visual aides if you care to check them out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Enjolras hadn’t seen his friends much the last few weeks, having gotten bogged down in work and backed up on writing. That night he met them at their usual bar for some overdue relaxation. 

He stopped talking mid-sentence when Grantaire came in with Joly.

Enjolras had to do a double take to make sure it was Grantaire. He was wearing his usual faded jeans, a dark blue henley and black jacket. He’d been letting his hair grow out. The wild curls, weighed down by the length, had turned into waves, but the ends were ringlets where it brushed his shoulders. He had also grown a moustache. 

For the record, Enjolras didn’t like facial hair. He shaved every morning. It was part of his daily routine. He secretly felt those that didn’t were simply lazy, or possibly vain. But Grantaire looked... hot. Grantaire looked really hot with his moustache. 

Enjolras had never thought about how attractive the man was, but he couldn’t deny his reaction now. He inhaled his breath through his nose sharply as his heart sped, cheeks heating as if he was blushing. Maybe he was; the thoughts he was having would be blush-worthy if anyone could read them.

Combeferre followed Enjolras’ gaze and arched a brow at him upon seeing where it rested. He could feel Jehan, seated next to Combeferre, watching him quizzically.

Joly and Grantaire were making their way to the table that the group occupied. Enjolras scooted his chair over so Grantaire could squeeze one in beside him. Joly somehow made room between Bossuet and Feuilly, across the table from them.

“What’d we miss?” Grantaire asked and glanced over at Enjolras briefly, looking away when he saw Enjolras staring back intently.

“Nothing important,” Courfeyrac chimed from the other end of the table with Marius. “Enjolras was going on about all the good deeds he’s accomplished. And you? Why are you two late?”

Joly looked as if he was about to speak but he jerked and glared at Grantaire, who said, “Traffic was a bitch.”

Eponine arrived with another round of drinks and the group again fell into their side conversations. Enjolras nursed his beer while Grantaire chugged his first one down. Eponine was no fool; she had brought extras for the table.

Combeferre had turned to talk with Joly, but Enjolras still wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from Grantaire’s upper lip. The rest of his face looked incredibly smooth. He caught himself reaching up to feel before he actually touched, stumbling over his words when Grantaire turned sharply at the movement. “When did you decide to grow a moustache?”

Grantaire picked up a second bottle and shrugged, “Didn’t make a decision, really, just didn’t shave for a while.” His free hand came up to wipe at the corner of his mouth and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. He watched Enjolras almost warily before saying, “You don’t like it.”

“What? No! I like it. You-- it looks good. You look good,” Enjolras mentally face palmed.

Grantaire gave him a smile and his posture relaxed, “Yeah?”

That smile; when Grantaire truly smiled, Enjolras had to admit, he was gorgeous. His beautiful blue eyes lit up, his cheeks dimpled and his top teeth caught on his bottom lip.

Enjolras nodded and took a long pull of his beer, a funny feeling growing in his stomach.

“So, did you save the world while you were gone?” Grantaire teased lightly, steering Enjolras to firmer ground as if he could somehow sense him floundering.

“Not yet,” Enjolras replied and finished his beer.

“The world can wait. Tonight we drink!” Courfeyrac shouted and hailed Eponine, ordering shots.

 

The night progressed as it normally would except it felt completely different for Enjolras. He felt every time their thighs met under the table, their shoulders bumped, their arms brushed. He watched more purposefully, paid more attention and even encouraged Grantaire when he got on a roll with his usual storytelling.

By the time he was pleasantly buzzed, Enjolras had come to a decision. He sat up and adjusted his chair so that when he relaxed now, his thigh pressed along Grantaire’s. He leaned in as if to listen better and shifted the weight of his shoulder into Grantaire as well.

Eponine arrive with the fourth, or maybe it was fifth, round of shots then, interrupting the talk.

Grantaire turned to him, their faces incredibly close. “You okay?”

Enjolras tore his eyes away from his mouth to see Grantaire’s concerned expression. He suddenly hesitated and started to pull away.

Instantly Grantaire’s hand was on Enjolras’ knee, not letting him break contact where their thighs touched. “You’re okay,” Grantaire answered his own question and patted his hand slowly before drawing it back.

Enjolras dropped his hand as well, fingers curling around Grantaire’s wrist and pressing his hand back into place on his thigh. “You?”

He was blinded by another one of those smiles and found himself fighting the urge to lean in and kiss Grantaire right there in the middle of his friends and the crowded bar. Instead he licked his lips and bit his bottom one as Grantaire answered, “I’m great.”

“Grantaire the Great,” Joly called and then they were all taking their shots. Neither moved their hands from where they’d twined them together under the table.

 

A couple hours later Courfeyrac was herding them all out with plans to hit a nightclub. Which, maybe Enjolras had said he would come to tonight. “For once!” Courfeyrac hounded. So, Enjolras was disappointed that Grantaire seemed to have a lot of shots at the bar. Enough that he was stumbling and nearly dragging Enjolras down with him as they tried to walk to the subway. 

Marius seemed to be doing just a bit better, propped up by Courfeyrac.

Who was complaining. Loudly. 

“What kind of wing man gets plastered before we even get to the girls? Could you not have waited until I found someone to spend a pleasant evening with before you drank yourself into a stupor? I expect, or rather, excuse, this sort of thing from Grantaire, but honestly, Marius, how do you expect our friendship to continue under this strain?”

“I did not have any more than you!” Marius frowned and elbowed Courfeyrac.

That’s when Grantaire went down. Enjolras had his arm around Grantaire’s shoulders one moment, the next he was on his ass.

“For the love-- I’m getting a taxi and taking him home,” Enjolras sighed and bent down to hook his arms under Grantaire’s, hauling him back up.

“What?! No! See what you’ve done, Marius?”

“How is that my fault?”

“None of you boys can hold your liquor,” Bossuet called from a few paces up the block. The rest of them, unencumbered by inebriated friends, had let the four lag behind.

“Are we going?” Jehan asked.

“Yes!” Courfeyrac answered and nudged Marius in that direction. To Enjolras, he said, “Take him home then come meet us?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Enjolras placated Courfeyrac and steadied Grantaire while he hailed a cab.

“Yeah, right. Bye, Enjolras!” Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, knowing full well he’d not see Enjolras again tonight.

 

As soon as one pulled up, Grantaire straightened and grinned at Enjolras cheekily.

“Christ, I thought you were really drunk!” he groused, checking to see how far the others had gotten.

“No, but Pontmercy is,” Grantaire laughed and slid into the backseat.

“Courfeyrac’s going to kill you for getting Marius drunk,” Enjolras commented as he got in, unable to hold back his smile.

“Maybe, or maybe he’ll thank me,” Grantaire took his hand again as they sat close.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked.

Enjolras gave the driver his address.

 

Grantaire was warm, pressed against his side. They rode in silence. Not an awkward one, but one filled with nervous anticipation. Eventually Grantaire rested his head on Enjolras’ shoulder.

Enjolras turned his head to rub his cheek over the soft hair, marveling at the sensation. Why hadn’t he done this sooner? What, exactly, /was/ he doing? Those thoughts made him feel dizzy, so he pushed them away, instead dropping a light kiss to Grantaire’s hair.

Grantaire had money out already when the cab stopped, he’d been paying more attention than Enjolras had. As he got change and doled out a tip, Enjolras climbed out and got the door to the building, holding it open for Grantaire. The elevator ride was brief, they barely managed to contain their pace as they rushed to Enjolras’ door. 

Once inside, Grantaire seemed to pause, but just as he’d assured Enjolras earlier, now Enjolras did the same for him. He hooked his right arm around Grantaire’s waist and drew him in, left hand cupping Grantaire’s cheek as he leaned in slowly.

Grantaire tipped his head back and met Enjolras’ lips with the soft press of his own. 

Enjolras brushed over Grantaire’s upper lip, feeling the hair of his moustache then slotting their mouths together. He had thought it would be a whirlwind once he got Grantaire behind closed doors, but instead he took his time. He wanted to do this right, since it had taken him this long to realize what he wanted. Grantaire deserved that much, at least.

He kept to soft little kisses until Grantaire’s lips parted. Enjolras felt Grantaire’s hands gripping his shirt, fisting in the fabric. He swept his tongue tentatively over Grantaire’s bottom lip, earning him a quiet moan and the feel of Grantaire’s own tongue responding. They stood there for long minutes, kisses deepening and eventually dissolving into a frantic mess of lips, tongues and teeth.

Enjolras was just thinking he could do this forever when Grantaire pulled away with a gasp and buried his face against Enjolras’ neck, arms wrapping around him as well, and body leaning into Enjolras. Grantaire’s shoulders shook and for a moment Enjolras was frozen in fear, thinking that Grantaire was crying, but then he let out a chuckle. 

Frowning, Enjolras curled his fingers in Grantaire’s hair and pulled him back so he could see his face. “What are you laughing at?”

“I can’t believe it worked,” he smiled and stole a quick peck of a kiss.

“What worked?”

“You really like the moustache,” he stated smugly.

“I thought you said you didn’t grow it on purpose.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I stopped shaving and had a beard, but I didn’t think you’d like that, so I was going to shave it all off when Joly suggested it.”

“Suggested what?”

“To try just the moustache.”

“But, why?”

“I just thought,” Grantaire began then frowned, eyes dropped to Enjolras’ chin as he spoke, “maybe if I changed something, you would finally look at me.”

“I’ve looked at you before,” Enjolras protested, and it sounded lame even to his own ears.

There was that bitter laugh Enjolras was used to, twisting Grantaire’s mouth, and it hurt more than ever, “You never /saw/ me, before.”

“I see you now,” Enjolras whispered, “I see you.”

Something desperate clawed at his chest and he took Grantaire’s mouth again. He had no excuses, none at all, and he wouldn’t lie to Grantaire. He would have to find another way to prove it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here be the sexxytimes. Then more talking. No, srsly, this is as mushy as I get.

Enjolras led him into the bedroom then began stripping Grantaire of his clothes. For each item he removed, Grantaire divested him of his as well.

Once down to their underwear, Grantaire in boxers and Enjolras in briefs, he crowded Grantaire, backing him toward the bed. Hands on the elastic, Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s boxers down off his hips so they fell to the floor. Grantaire lay back on the bed, spread out for Enjolras to view.

The bedside lamp was on, illuminating them plainly. After slipping his briefs off as well, Enjolras paused to look while Grantaire did the same.

“Scoot up,” he told Grantaire when their eyes met. Enjolras crawled up the bed as soon as he’d stretched out in the middle. He nudged Grantaire’s thighs apart with his knees, hovering over his body before slotting his hips against Grantaire’s and laying flush against him.

Their erections were trapped between them and when Enjolras kissed Grantaire, he rolled his hips as well, rubbing them together and they moaned almost in unison.

He could feel Grantaire’s heart beating against him where they were pressed chest to chest. He slipped his left hand into Grantaire’s hair where it lay curled on the bed, tugging softly as he kissed Grantaire’s jaw.

Grantaire turned his head to bare his neck to Enjolras, who took the chance to mouth over it. He paused when Grantaire abruptly whimpered. He licked at the spot and got another, so he focused there, sucking at it and even nipping delicately with his teeth.

“You’re gonna leave a hickey,” Grantaire gasped as his hands ghosted over the planes of Enjolras’ back.

Enjolras paused long enough to ask, “Do you care?”

“No. No, I want it,” he answered. Fingertips traveled up Enjolras’ spine and Grantaire finally splayed his hands wide over his shoulder blades, holding Enjolras in place.

Worrying his tongue over the skin as he sucked, Enjolras didn’t stop until Grantaire hissed. Kissing his way across Grantaire’s throat, he puts another on the other side, at the juncture where neck and shoulder met. The first spot already had the bloom of a bruise when he looked again. The sight satisfied Enjolras more than he expected.

With a groan of frustration, Grantaire bucked his hips, grabbing at Enjolras’ hair to pull him in for a desperate kiss. He kept rocking, picking up speed until Enjolras suddenly pulled back. His attentions moved on to Grantaire’s collar bones, then his chest, shifting his body downward. With his stomach pressed again Grantaire’s dick, he pinned Grantaire’s hips to the bed.

Enjolras licked over a stiff nipple and Grantaire’s arms fell to the bed as he arched his chest up for more. He missed Grantaire’s hands, but then Grantaire’s legs came up to brace his hips. Calves dug into Enjolras’ thighs as he circled the tip of his tongue around the nipple.

Sucking at it, Enjolras shifts his weight onto one forearm, freeing a hand to toy with the other nipple, thumb and forefinger rolling it and lightly pinching. Grantaire responded marvelously; a wordless cry and delicious shudder of muscles.

“You really like that,” Enjolras parroted the smug tone to Grantaire when he finally switched his mouth and balance to change the attention each nipple received.

“Fuck, yes!” Grantaire practically sobbed. He grabbed at Enjolras, one hand gripping his bicep, the other tangling in his hair. His movements became frantic as he rutted against Enjolras, precome making their stomachs slick.

Enjolras bit warningly at Grantaire’s nipple, hand abandoning the other to reach down and stop Grantaire’s hips again.

“God fucking damnit, Enjolras, please!” Grantaire cried.

“Not yet.”

“Why not? Please! Please, please, please,” he panted but stopped his hips, breath heaving as he tried to calm down.

“Because you can still talk,” Enjolras teased.

“Fuck,” Grantaire grunted but Enjolras was moving, realigning their hips, moaning against Grantaire’s cheek as his cock slid into place beside Grantaire’s.

They shared a tender kiss before Grantaire wrapped his limbs around Enjolras and began to writhe. His long hair had curled up from the sweat, he was flushed all over, and head turned to the side, mouth working but making no words. It wasn’t in mockery of Enjolras’ teasing, though. He chased his orgasm as Enjolras closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Grantaire’s temple. He met Grantaire’s thrusts, letting it all overwhelm him.

It wasn’t long before Grantaire came, the sudden heat of it enough for Enjolras as well.

 

With a contented sigh, Enjolras rolled off Grantaire and lay on his back, careful not to get any mess on the sheets. When he caught his breath he glanced over to see Grantaire watching him through lidded eyes.

Enjolras smiled at him before sitting up, “Hold on, let me clean us up.”

“No, leave it. That way I’ll have proof in the morning this wasn’t all a dream,” Grantaire replied.

Shaking his head, Enjolras pulled some wipes from the drawer of the night stand. “I’ll give you fresh proof in the morning.”

“Christ!” Grantaire jumped when Enjolras used one to clean his stomach. “You have wipes in there? What else?”

“Lube,” he said, getting out another to clean himself then standing and pulling the sheets down.

“That’s it? No toys? Condoms?” Grantaire asked while moving to get under the covers, laying on his side now, facing Enjolras.

Enjolras turned off the lamp before slipping under the covers and scooting close. He could feel Grantaire’s breathe on his chin and throat as they each wrapped an arm around the other, Grantaire’s top leg draping over Enjolras’ thigh. “Toys, no. Ah, and I haven’t had need of condoms in a while.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a bit, and Enjolras thought he had gone to sleep. “So, where /are/ the toys?”

“Somewhere else.”

Grantaire chuckled and tucked his head under Enjolras’ chin.

Enjolras couldn’t fall asleep, though.

“Grantaire?” he whispered softly to see if he was still awake.

“Hmm?” came the sleepy hum after a moment.

“About… before, I’m sorry I didn’t—“

“Hush. No. It really doesn’t matter, okay? Even if tonight is all I ever get, it’s more than enough.”

“Grantaire—“

“No, I mean it, Enjolras, please, just let it go.”

“Stop,” Enjolras growled.

Grantaire went stiff against him and pulled back slightly. He could hear the pleading in a Grantaire’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

“You obviously—“ he halted and took a breath before starting again. “You think I made this decision so lightly? That I was just going to use you tonight for—do you really know me at all?”

Grantaire’s reply was almost too quiet to hear, “I didn’t think it safe to read anything more into this.”

“You’ve all been telling me for months that I needed to get laid.”

“That’s what I thought I was helping you with?”

“Yet, in all the time you’ve known me, have I ever /just/ slept with someone?”

“I don’t know.”

Enjolras couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice, “No, the answer is no. I have not. It may have taken me awhile to realize my feelings towards you, but it’s not as if I’ve been oblivious to your attention! You must think I’m a terrible person if you honestly believe I would toy with your emotions that way!”

He was hurt, and frustrated, because Enjolras had thought it was obvious. He didn’t know how to explain why he was so slow to understand his feelings, but now that he had, this wasn’t something he was just going to play at. Grantaire’s silence when he finished was not helping.

Finally, he asked, “You have feelings towards me?”

Of all the things he’d said, Enjolras wasn’t expecting Grantaire to latch onto those words, but he really should have. “Yes.”

“Then I forgive you for taking so long.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras sighed and they both relaxed, bodies pressing together again.

“Say that again, please?”

“Thank you?”

“Sorry, one more time?”

“Thank you.”

Grantaire tucked himself against Enjolras, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras fell asleep before Grantaire, face buried in Grantaire's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's lots in the works for this 'verse/series. I'll probably be jumping around the timeline of their relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> B/c i need them sometimes to help me write, i compile visual aides.
> 
> Grantaire’s clothes:  
> http://www.georgeblagden.com/georgeblagden/Headshots_%26_Portraits_files/Media/KARL%20GEORGE%20%2814%29/KARL%20GEORGE%20%2814%29.jpg
> 
> Enjolras’ clothes (minus scarf, i don’t like it): http://img.spokeo.com/public/900-600/aaron_tveit_2008_10_19.jpg
> 
> Grantaire’s smile: http://24.media.tumblr.com/c46072796e9642011c658696669119dd/tumblr_mjuqgfQmus1rtsml4o1_500.jpg


End file.
